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Mandolen Mull, Ph.D.

@mullivation

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If you have a dream and can achieve it all on your own, you’re dreaming too small!
⭐️Neuroscientist
🏆International Speaker
✍️Author
@mullmentum

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If you haven’t yet downloaded a copy of the (free) @outliermagazineofficial you absolutely need to head over there and do that. SO many extraordinary folks are captured within its pages! by @mullivation

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2 years ago

Four years ago, with my dissertation committee discussing the approval of my degree on the other side of the wall, I nervously watched my father’s reaction while he read the dedication of my degree. Three years prior, when Dr. Jerry Gilley admitted me into the program, I exclaimed, “My Daddy is going to be so excited! He dropped out of high school and it’s always been a wound for him, but now his baby is getting her PhD! In one generation! I can’t wait to tell him!”

And so, Daddy was my first call.
“Daddy- I got in! Only 12 of us were admitted this year and I’m one of them! I got in!”
‘That’s great, Wink!’
“Right?! I told Dr. Gilley you were the first person I was calling because you’d be so proud. I told him you didn’t have your degree but here I was getting a PhD…”
‘…WELL DAMNIT, Amanda Lynn! You don’t have to go and tell every Tom, Dick, and Harry I don’t have a degree!’
“…”
‘ARE YOU CRYING?!’

And so, for three years, I carefully crafted my dedication. I sent revision after revision to Momma and Sis to gauge their thoughts. Weeks prior to my defense, when it looked like I might not hit my deadline, I stared at the words while I called my father. I just needed to hear his voice, and I once again found my motivation.

So that November day in 2018, as I saw my father’s shoulders shake and tears wet his eyes, I whispered, “Never again tell anyone you don’t have a degree. This one is yours. It’s the best one I’ve earned, the only one with a 4.0, and it’s yours.”

We didn’t know then that the cancer that would take him this year was already spreading, only to be discovered a mere few months later. I miss my father all the time, most on the weekends. I miss him when I teach or consult and hear his lessons come out of my mouth. I miss him when I’m discouraged and need his voice to comfort me. I cry, hoping he’ll yell at me once again, but he doesn’t, he can’t. So I keep using the words he can no longer say, I teach what he can no longer share, I serve where he no longer can. #GenerationalMentorship is building forward the legacies of those who left a legacy inside you. I don’t have my Daddy’s spatial and creative talent, but I hope I’m building well.

-M. by @mullivation

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4 years ago

I have a crooked smile. My left shoulder and clavicle is out of alignment. My hands shake. My accent ebbs and flows into a cornucopia of dialects. My right leg sometimes curls inward. Occasionally I transpose or omit words.
But I beat the odds.

Six years ago this week I noticed a tremor in my left hand. Thinking it was my nerves of my consulting gig, I was embarrassed by it but chalked it up to insignificant. Within two months, the tremor progressed and I started noticing my hand jerking away from my keyboard, and a colleague asked about my right leg dragging, saying she had seen a similar gait in her mother who had MS. It wasn’t until I was teaching in class and my left arm began to spasm and curl that I knew something was very wrong. By this time, my classmates and professors had noticed me bumping into walls and that I would have cognitive pauses where I just…was gone. I went to see my doctor and upon entering the room immediately asked “What’s wrong? You aren’t wearing your heels” and within a few minutes of me explaining my symptoms, fearing the comorbidity of MS and my Crohn’s, he had called Neurology for a consult. Returning to work, I tried to answer a colleague’s question and was startled to discover I couldn’t talk correctly. Words were aligned in my head, but all of the sudden my tongue was curled and my jaw seemed clenched. Within days I progressively declined. MRIs, spinal taps, heavy metal poisoning testing, immunoassays, etc. I was referred to a NeuroDegenerative doctor, and was diagnosed with brain lesions and two types of #dystonia. With no rule book to follow, I was told that my prognosis was bleak: Fully disabled and incapable of walking, talking, or feeding myself within 5 years. I was told there were very rare cases where people did get better, but there was no standard treatment, and that time was of the essence.
So, I put everything I had in trying to beat the odds. Dopamine, anti-convulsants, speech and occupational therapy, Neurofeedback, western and eastern medicine, CBT.
Six years later, I still undergo treatments (Botox injections in my neck!), and I’m still on meds…but I continue to beat the odds. 💜 by @mullivation

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4 years ago

I didn’t take very many photos while in DC at the International Apprenticeship Coordinator Meeting and Competition. Normally I would’ve, you know.
But this time?
This time I spent a lot of focus on being present, having the conversations, listening, and encouraging.
Longtime friends greeted me with hugs, and nervous competitors stopped me in the hallways and elevators to tell me how my nervous system techniques helped calm their anxiety.
From the stage, a former student whose talent has brought him to a great place of leadership, said kind things about my work.

And so, I leave tomorrow even more fulfilled than all the times I’ve taken so many pictures.

So there may be less photos up ahead, but I hope that means more memories like this.

Safe travels, my brothers and sisters. 💜
Book #1718435 by @mullivation

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7 days ago

Many decades ago my GDad founded the Erath County Humane Society. Nearly 3 years ago my Momma, a Board Member of the organisation, found a scruffy little rescue that needed love. He couldn’t be adopted as they thought he might be feral, and best they could tell, the little pup had never even been outside before they found him. He was scared of everything and everyone, yet he followed my Momma around the pen he was in. Knowing Baggins and I were 1300 miles away grieving the loss of Doc Holliday, she asked me if I might want to raise the little dog.
Immediately I said yes. “I’ll name him Griffin.”
And, days later, Grif made the cross-country trek.

These doggos have experienced much of the loss that I’ve experienced. They still look for Harbour as well.
But when I tell them that their girls are coming home, their tails wag and they run to the stairs looking for the girls.
Baggins has claimed Joe as his person.

And despite me being the one who named them and raised them, who keeps them stocked in cookies and takes them to the vet and groomer’s, it’s them who has given them the most life.
Little traitors.
But…also?
I’m really, really, glad. by @mullivation

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a month ago

We’ve been asking the same question since 1936, ya’ll. And what do we know? We’re currently sitting at the highest level of union favourability in all that time.

Gallup’s most recent polling shows that 71% of Americans approve of unions with 47%- the highest ever recorded- wanting unions to have more influence in our work.
This isn’t an anomaly, it’s a steady drumbeat we’ve been seeing for a while.
Especially since the ‘Vid.

Gallup isn’t alone.
Pew research in 2025 found that 60% of Americans said declining union membership is bad for our country, 62% said it’s bad for working folks.
Yet the most insane part of this, ya’ll?
Union membership is at a historic low, while favourability is at historic highs.

Okay, so that’s the facts.
But what’s my inference?
I actually don’t think it’s so much that people just love unions, I think it’s more that folks recognise the modern way of work just doesn’t…work.

And I don’t think unions fit in every workplace.
I think there actually are some very good places that treat their people very well.
But members of the workforce have to consider the conditions of their workplace.

The role you carry today is fundamentally different that the folks who sat in your seat two decades ago.
When work really could be left at work.
When emails didn’t send your nervous system into high alert.

And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’re seeing higher rates of struggles with mental health, loneliness, and loss of connection.
Because I think if you put a healthy goldfish in a dirty fishbowl, pretty soon you no longer have a healthy goldfish.
And the way we conduct work today is filled with filth.

Most folks aren’t going to therapy.
They aren’t going to church, they aren’t involved in their communities, heck- most don’t even know their neighbours.
But almost everyone has to go to work.

The modern way of work is sick.
And it’s making good people sick.
It doesn’t have to be that way.

So it is going to take folks doing more than just believing that unions are important in our society and workplaces.
It’s going to take folks actually getting engaged in advocacy for better working by @mullivation

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a month ago

Our first family vacation was an immense success! Lily took immediately to the IronWorkers, Ruthie embraced novelty and was my stalwart sidekick, Joe didn’t meet a stranger…it was, in a word: Perfect.
Finding a cool AirBnB with a hidden bedroom behind a bookshelf gave us ALL the ideas for the Haven!
My heart is full. 💜 by @mullivation

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2 months ago

I may be Local 8’s newest member, but someone is quickly on my heels! by @mullivation

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2 months ago

He looked at Joe with his hand tattoos and full sleeves, wearing IronWorker gear he’s rightfully earned through teaching in the trade these past two years, and gave a nod of respect.
But what he didn’t know?
I’m actually the IronWorker.

I’ve spent ten years investing in, and growing with, the Iron Workers International.
It is an honour beyond anything I can adequately capture with words.
It has been an homage to my Daddy’s legacy as a master stone mason.

Although my father was proud of my education, including the Ph.D. I dedicated to him, he’d first tell folks “My daughter trains IronWorkers.”
This, despite always telling me “Wood rots. Steel rusts. But masonry lasts forever.”
Because he felt that working with the IronWorkers meant I hadn’t strayed away from understanding the values he taught me.

He was absolutely right.

Be scrappy.
Honour your word.
Never steal, lie, or cheat.
Be honest, even to a fault.
Work hungry, and inspire others to.
Have a firm handshake, look folks in the eye.
And if someone gets knocked down, do your best to lift them up.

For a decade now, I’ve been lifted up by this trade.
And yesterday I was honoured as the newest member of Ironworkers Local 8 when I gave a keynote to them and Ironworkers Local 25.
It is a privilege I feel deeply inside my marrow.

I offer my most sincere gratitude to every brother and sister who have sat in my trainings.
Who’ve lifted me up during my struggles- as they had sideline views of my dystonia, trauma, burnout, and loss of Harbour.
Who’ve invested back into me as much as- if not more- than the overflowing dedication I’ve poured into them.

But especially?
To Local 8’s Business Manager Charlie Falkner who took one of my classes, and then was so impacted he asked to take it again.
Who then asked me to train his apprentices, his mentors, his colleagues.
Who has prayed with me and advocated for me.
Who gifted me this immense honour.

On my word, I could have never dreamed…

Happy Growing!
M. (Book Number: 1718435) by @mullivation

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2 months ago

Sen. Moreno (R-OH) has finally come out today with an announcement validating the horrific domestic violence allegations against his former son-in-law, Rep. Max Miller (R-OH). Those allegations include that Max poured scalding water on his ex-wife, held a gun to her while she changed their daughter’s diaper, and broke the collarbone of their toddler.
It is not the first, or second, or third time that allegations against his violent and abusive behaviour have been made.
Max’s response? To call his ex-wife crazy.

My buddy Brian Poindexter (@poindexterforcongress) has been working hard. Hard for almost 20 years as an IronWorker. Hard as a teacher. Hard as a community leader. Hard in this election where he was up against a tough primary. And through it all? He’s kept his focus on serving others.

OH-7 deserves a leader of integrity, one who understands the struggles of hard working Americans. Max Miller continues to have the support of his party, and access to overflowing PACs. While it has taken all this time for Sen. Moreno to call for Max’s resignation, the rest of the leadership and administration- who’ve endorsed him- have remained silent.
Goodness, ya’ll…we can do better.

I got to see my buddy a few weeks ago.
You know why?
Because he left the campaign trail to complete his certified teaching certificate, finishing a promise he’d made to himself and his local 5 years ago.
I’m immensely proud to have been a part of his journey on that.

Brian is the real deal.
Fulled by a heart of service and a strength of hard work.
I’m asking you to support my friend.
Give folks someone they can believe in again. by @mullivation

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2 months ago

On a recent event in the city for a wonderful client, I got the chance to have lunch with the inimitable Mark Holden. Mark and I have been friends for 4 years and met through @theoutlierproject_official. That friendship has been such a blessing to me, and having the chance to nerd out on a random Thursday reminded me just how fruitful my work has become.

Three years ago I bet it all.
On me.
I quit my job a month before being awarded tenure to become an entrepreneur- with very few clients on the book.

I’ve made missteps.
Trusted the wrong folks.
Dreamed too big, too soon.

But those things? Mere pebbles.
Because the view from this mountain I’ve climbed is just so frickin’ incredible.

Thank you to all of our clients who’ve got us here- you took a bet on me, too.
Thank you to @brooketomman for being alongside me this entire time.
And if we’re here after just three years….ya’ll, I cannot wait to watch how @mullmentum grows forward!

Happy Growing,
M. by @mullivation

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2 months ago

My hand was shaking, but it was my first consulting gig and I was a doc student living on caffeine.
I had no clue of what was about to come…on several fronts.

Ten years ago I trained union IronWorker instructors.
I was to teach how to create tests with validity.
How to craft environments of learning.
How to reframe the testing process as a developmental tool, rather than an adversarial one.

But just weeks after the training, my right leg started dragging.
My left arm spasmed.
And one terrifying morning, I became unable to talk.

What caused it?
Who can say.
We believe my Crohn’s meds played a part and chronic stress played another.

I sat in my neurodegenerative specialist’s office and heard about how there wasn’t a “one size fits all” treatment.
No cure.
That within 5 years, I’d no longer be able to walk, talk, or feed myself.

But we had a small window of a chance.
Folks who get better often see progress within the first year.
We’d already lost months trying to find the diagnosis.

So, we fought forward.
Neurofeedback. Dopa meds. CBT. Physical therapy. Speech therapy. Botox. Baclofen. Phenobarbital. Somatic Experience Therapy. Gut directed hypnosis.

All, horrifying.
All, while earning a Ph.D.
All, as others dismissed my condition as fakery.

We fought forward.
And this past week, I celebrated a decade of getting to do work I deeply love.
But you know what? I don’t teach that Testing class anymore.

In the process of fighting forward, conversations kept swirling about leadership and stress.
And everything had a clear purpose:
To pass what I’d learned, on.

In this last decade I’ve not only beaten the odds, I’ve also gained new credentials.
Positive Psychiatry and Mental Health.
Nervous System Regulation.
Neuroscience for Leadership.

So that?
That and the lessons of fighting forward is what we talked about.
How to carry the invisible weight of leadership.
No “one-size fits all”.

I never dreamed I’d be where I am, with the opportunity to earn a living helping those I love to lead more whole lives.

So, fight forward.
You cannot know what lies ahead, but you do know that deep within you is the promise of something more. by @mullivation

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3 months ago